


broke your heart, i'll put it back together

by ilovepippasoo



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Hamliza, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Suicidal Thoughts, alex and eliza have issues but i love them, and actions but not successful ones, cliche modern post reynolds pamphlet fic, i love hamliza
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovepippasoo/pseuds/ilovepippasoo
Summary: She is no longer Eliza.Now she is the scorned wife of Alexander Hamilton, the man who married her and had five children with her, then slept with a twenty-three year old.It turns out that he had more control over her heart than she thought he did.





	1. one

He never really knew how to undo her bra. 

She had discovered this the first time, having to resort to flipping over so he could pull the clasp apart easily. It had been amid giggles and sweaty kisses pressed to various places. From then on, she flipped over each time to make it easy for him. 

Eliza has a lot of things ingrained in her mind, and that is one of them. She can remember what his voice sounded like in her ear, smooth and thick like honey, as she exhaustedly held Philip in her arms for the first time, his arms encircling her. She can remember what his lips tasted like when she kissed him for the first time in months after he returned from war, tainted with rain and the salt of tears. She can remember what his face looked like as they stood at the altar, hands joined nervously. She can remember his scent, so, so well; of pine and soap and fresh paper, sometimes of ink and sleep deprivation. She can remember what his skin feels like on hers, how he is rough where she is soft, how they connect and fit together like pieces of a puzzle. 

Alexander.

The word she used to say like it was a poem in itself, how it used to live on her tongue and on his skin when she pressed her lips to his collarbone. There were a million meanings tied to that one word, four syllables, nine letters. It had left her lips in a thousand different ways. She only uses his full name when she needs it, when he needs it. Now, she wonders if she’ll ever need it again. 

The coffee shop is buzzing like usual, almost all the tables are occupied by this point. Eliza sits in the corner, a mug held tightly between her hands. All of her children are at school - she hopes, because she leaves early on Wednesdays to catch her sister before she leaves for her job a long ways upstate. This time, Angelica has called and said that her kids are running late and she has to take a raincheck. Eliza doesn't mind this too much. She knows Angelica would only cancel on her if it was a real emergency. That’s just her sister. 

It’s a rainy day, she notices vaguely as she looks out the window, absently sipping her tea. She would be having coffee, but she is in the fifth month of her sixth pregnancy and knows better by now. She should really get home, see if her children are all where they need to be. Sighing, Eliza puts down her mug to dig through her bag for a five dollar bill, because she's too impatient right now to wait for change. She is half standing when the words from the news anchor on the television above her head make her freeze. 

“Treasury secretary Alexander Hamilton published a ninety-five page essay this morning confessing his affair with a woman by the name of Maria Reynolds. The essay is aptly titled, The Reynolds Pamphlet.”

Eliza’s mouth is dry, her mind is racing at a billion miles an hour. There must be another Alexander Hamilton, another secretary by the same name. 

Who is she kidding? 

Alexander cheated. He cheated? How could he do that to her? And publish an essay confessing before he even confessed to her alone? Why would he do it now, when their sixth child was on its way? Her husband’s picture is on the screen now, and the anchors are still speaking, she wants them to stop, to shut up. 

“Have you read this?”

“‘The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds…’”

“We are waiting for Mrs. Hamilton to make a public statement.”

This makes her head snap up. She’s going to have to make a statement, she’s going to have to let the whole world see the damaged insides of her marriage. She’s going to have to stand up in front of people and say We are getting a divorce or We are not getting a divorce, people are going to ask her questions about things that should be kept private. And the children - her heart drops at the thought of the children. Philip, Angie and AJ are old enough to understand everything, she knows it. All of her kids are bright. James and John are too young, too young, she thinks. How will she explain to them why daddy is sleeping in his office and why mommy won't speak to him? 

A barista is looking at her. The barista who knows Eliza, she sees her and Angelica every week. The look of sympathy etched in her features makes Eliza want to keel over and throw up. She has to get used to getting that look. She is no longer Eliza. Now she’s the scorned wife of Alexander Hamilton, the man who married her and had five children with her and then slept with a twenty-three year old. 

The scorned wife picks up her bag, avoids the gaze of those who vaguely recognize her from a picture of her and her husband that has been broadcasted through the screen. She pushes the door of the café open, and the rain is coming down harder than she expected. 

The short walk to her car is enough to soak her clothes, turn her hair into a sheet of wet tangles. Eliza doesn't care, she doesn't care, she needs to get home to her children and she needs to wake up from this dream. She grips the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles gleam white and she’s afraid the wheel will come off. She turns the radio dial with shaking hands, she needs a distraction and she needs it badly. All that comes through are static-filled news channels, and she can hear Alexander's name through the broken words. 

Eliza violently turns the dial, and she feels a spring break loose. The car fills with static, no words are audible. 

She screams. 

She screams out of anger, out of anguish and overwhelmedness and confusion, out of misery and because the betrayal has settled like a dark cloud over her chest and _it will not go away_. And once her scream has died in her throat, a sob rips through her chest and suddenly she is leaning her forehead on the steering wheel, clutching either side of it like it is her lifeline. 

Eliza's tears are choking her, making her face hot and sticky. She digs her teeth into her lip and sobs again when the metallic taste of blood fills her mouth. She pulls a tissue from the confines of somewhere and has enough sense to hold it to her lip until the bleeding stops.

She is pathetic. 

Here she is, having a breakdown in her car in the middle of a rainstorm, when life is waiting for her continue. She has to make sure her children are okay, she has to cook, she has to clean, she has to deal with her husband's infidelity. She has to carry on and pretend that there isn't something melting her insides and clawing at her heart. 

When Eliza finally stops sobbing, she slams on the gas pedal and reverses, pulling out of the lot and going for her house. It takes a few minutes less than usual; she probably broke the speed limit. But she doesn't care. She parks in her driveway sloppily and pulls the keys out of the ignition, dumping them in her bag before getting out of the car. When she enters the house, she can smell burnt toast and orange juice. Her kids have made themselves breakfast, because they are bright. She loves her kids. 

She enters the living room to see all of them huddled in front of the television. They all look at her when she enters. 

“What are you all doing here? You should be at school,” Eliza reprimands, though her voice lacks edge. 

“Mom, we saw the news,” AJ says in a low voice. 

“Where’s Daddy?” John asks, frowning and hugging his knees to his chest. Philip’s eyes meet hers, and there is a brief moment of understanding between them. Eliza loves her firstborn more than words can say. She loves all of them this way, but he’ll always have a special place in her heart. 

“We don't have time to talk about this right now. Come on, chop chop. Your brother is going to drive you to school, alright?” Her voice cracks but nobody says anything. They gather their bags and jackets and Philip comes to kiss her cheek. She gives him a small smile when he doesn't ask about her red-rimmed eyes or about the fact that she is soaked from head to toe. She knows he understands and she sees the anger in his eyes. 

Once they are gone, Eliza hopes they don't come back. She hopes they don't have to come home and face their parents, whose relationship has been torn to shreds over their father’s lack of loyalty. 

The house is silent, with the exception of the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes. Eliza wants to scream until her voice is gone, she wants to shatter things until her hands are raw, but she knows even that will not be enough. 

She goes to his office. 

His office is a mess as usual. Papers are strewn over the desk and on the floor and stuffed in between books on shelves. The trash can is extremely full, crumpled up paper is piled at least a foot higher than the trash can goes. 

Eliza picks up every single paper. She retrieves her own box of their letters, the ones they’d written as lovestruck teenagers and young adults. She stacks them, sits at his desk, and picks up his favorite pen. It’s a fountain pen, dark green, that she had given him for their fifth anniversary. His initials are inscribed in gold lettering on the side. She unscrews the pot of ink sitting a few inches away, dips the nib in, and begins at the first letter. 

It’s not one of their letters. Eliza remembers reading this one after he’d fallen fast asleep, face buried in the crook of his arm. It was right after they had gotten engaged, Alexander had written to George Washington to inform him why he would be taking leave from the military. As she reads it now, her hand clenching the pen shakes. Without a second thought, she brings the letter closer to her and lifts the pen to the first mention of her name. In several short strokes, she scratches out all five letters. E-L-I-Z-A. Sometimes Elizabeth, sometimes Betsey. But mostly Eliza. 

She does this for hours; she goes through each and every one of the papers, scouring for her name. And when she finds it, she blots it out with black ink. Eliza admires her handiwork when she is finally finished with the towering stack. Her hand aches, and so does her heart, but she feels a little bit of relief. 

Eliza has just left his office, carrying a bundle of letters, when she hears the door open with a long, exaggerated creak. She turns around slowly. 

There he is.

Alexander looks terrible, to say the very least. His hair is pulled back, but stray hair has escaped and is sticking to his face, his neck, his ears. The circles under his eyes are almost bruises, and his shoulders are hunched. He opens his mouth to speak, but Eliza cuts him off. 

“Don't,” she says coldly, turning back around to face the window. There are no lights on. It is dark. Just like it will be for the rest of her life. “Don't say a word to me.”

“Eliza,” he whispers, his voice full of despair. “Please, let me-”

“No!” She shouts it, flinching at her own voice as it breaks horribly. “You've done enough! I don't want to hear you!”

“Betsey...” Alex drops his bag and staggers to her, dropping to his knees in front of where she stands, hands coming to rest on her hips. “Let me explain, just let me do this.” Eliza jerks away from him, pushing his hands off of her like he is fire and he just burned her.

“Don’t touch me. I don’t owe you anything. I don't want to look at you. Or speak to you. You can sleep in your office.”

As she speaks, she picks up a letter from the bundle she has put on the floor. In one swift motion, she tears it in half. The painful intake of breath she hears from him makes her want to cry and laugh all at once. These are his masterpieces; the letters he wrote from his very soul in the ink of his tears and blood. The letters he would write to her from a million miles away, the letters he would write her for later as she lay beside him, head tucked into his neck, hair fanned out over their sheets. The letters he left on her pillow after the births of each of their children, _you are beautiful, you are amazing, you are mine_ he’d say. The sonnets he would write, one on each anniversary without fail. A new set of words each year. Like clockwork. Their own personal novelty. Not anymore, she thinks bitterly.

“Eliza…” His voice is clearly full of horror, and she can imagine perfectly how his face looks although she cannot see him, nor does she want to for that matter. 

“Just leave me alone," she snaps loudly, her voice cracking as she bows her head. There are tears burning at her eyes but she will not let him see her cry.

“I’ll be in my office,” he says, voice barely audible over the screaming in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy !! i haven't posted on here in ages but you should leave a comment so i have motivation to update ;)))) also i love hamliza k bye


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza has had enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: this chapter contains suicidal thoughts/actions. if that triggers you, please dont read !! stay safe loves. i apologize for how badly written and choppy this is, but its almost one am and i just wanted to update this before i forgot. have a great mothers day everyone :)))

The next week is agonizing. Everything seems to be moving a million times slower now that she doesn’t have Alexander. No. No! She doesn’t need him, she can do this by herself. At least, that’s what she keeps trying to repeat in her mind.

When the kids ask, Eliza doesn’t answer. She cleans the house, she packs their lunches, she does the laundry, she cooks dinner, she goes grocery shopping, she drives them to school, she puts on a smile and pretends that her heart isn’t withering away piece by piece. She doesn’t let any of her children see that it isn’t okay, that mama and daddy might not be mama and daddy as a collective phrase anymore. She cries in the shower so they don’t hear her. She sobs in the wake of midnight, buried under layers of suffocating blankets so they don’t get worried. 

By the time Angelica arrives, Eliza is exhausted. She wants to scream and cry and tear her hair out in clumps and hurl herself off a building and drown at the same time. Alexander has not spoken to her, only looked at her like he is a wounded puppy she's found on the side of the road. 

_NO. HE DOESN’T NEED SYMPATHY. HE’S A LYING, CHEATING BASTARD._

Her thoughts are too loud, her mind is racing at a billion miles an hour and all Eliza wants is to not feel the emptiness in her chest and to not have to fake her smiles and pretend like it doesn’t feel like her limbs are lead. She wants everything to end. 

Angelica senses this. If either of them know anything, it’s the other sister. And the moment she has taken the kids away and sent them on a train upstate to her parents, Eliza opens the door of the bathroom in her and Alex’s bedroom. She opens the medicine cabinet and her eyes fall on the orange bottle sitting near the Ibuprofen. They’re anti-depressants. Alex’s prescription. They used to help him escape his mind and get some sleep, back when he cared. When she cared.

 _What a cliche way to go out_ , she thinks as her hands clasp the bottle and she reads the label carefully. If Angelica found her on the bathroom tiles, cold and lifeless, maybe her kids would no longer have a machine for a mother and maybe Alex wouldn't be labeled as a deadbeat anymore. Does cheating still count as a derailing crime if your wife is dead? 

This is stupid, she’s stupid, she’s so fucking stupid and selfish and a horrible person. No wonder Alex cheated. 

But that doesn’t stop Eliza from really thinking about it as she stares at herself in the mirror. Her hair hangs lifelessly in a curtain down her shoulders. The dark circles under her eyes resemble bruises; she recognizes that from Alex. Her skin is milky pale and she looks dead. Really dead. She looks like a woman whose husband would cheat. She grips either side of the sink tightly, switching her gaze from the mirror to the bottle of pills.

Then the bedroom door opens. Angelica’s footsteps grow louder until they stop outside the bathroom door. 

“Eliza?” Her voice asks. It sounds tired. She did just leave her kids to come help put her broken sister back together, after all. She should just go back. It isn’t any use. Eliza knows that. She doesn’t respond. She closes her eyes and swallows, letting out a breath.

“Lizzie?” Angelica tries again, her voice growing louder. “I know you’re in there. Please open the door.” Eliza picks up the pill bottle, and the rattling of pills against plastic causes Angelica to start again.

“Lizzie,” she says in a low voice. “Please, come out. Open the door. Let me help you. Don’t do what I know you’re thinking of doing.” Eliza shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears and blurring her vision. 

“You can’t,” she says sharply, her arms beginning to shake as she clutches the sides of the sink tighter. She shuts her eyes again. “You can’t fix me, Angelica. I’m not an elementary school art project. Leave me alone.”

“No. I will not leave you alone. Open the door before I kick it down,” Angelica replies firmly, and Eliza can picture the crease in her brow and how her arms are crossed across her chest perfectly.

“JUST GO! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Eliza screams suddenly, stumbling back and careening towards the wall, which her back hits violently. “I DON’T WANT YOU HERE!”

“Eliza, please,” Angelica breathes, trying to pull on the doorknob. “Please, don’t shut me out. I can help you. I know I can.”

_Breathe. In and out._

Eliza is silent. She closes and opens her eyes, coming to focus on the orange bottle through her blurred vision. She reaches for it, pries open the cap and empties half of the contents into her palm. She cups the other hand, shaking, and fills it with water from the sink. Staring at the pills for a moment, she puts them in her mouth and swallows them all with the water in the other hand. Taking several deep breaths, she pauses before stumbling to the door and unlocking it.

Angelica immediately crushes her sister in a hug, mumbling things like ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘You’ll be okay’ and ‘I’m here’. Eliza can’t help but think about how she’ll probably die in her sister’s arms, and she thinks that might be the best way she can think of dying. It might have been Alex’s arms a million years ago. But that’s a long time.

They stay like that for a while. Eliza has closed her eyes, her breathing becoming steadily more shallow as the minutes crawl by. She feels Angelica shift, look, and tense up. 

“Eliza, why is the bottle open?” She asks suddenly. Her sister doesn’t respond. Her eyelids flutter. “Elizabeth, answer me!” Angelica says sharply, pulling away from her sister and blanching when she sees the hazy look on Eliza’s face. The calm, painless facade is unnatural. It all clicks. “Eliza! You didn’t!”

Angelica hauls Eliza up, and her head lolls to the side. She is waiting, waiting for it to be over. Angelica is speaking frantically, and suddenly fingers are being shoved down her throat. Eliza pushes her sister away, shaking her head. She sinks down the wall, leaning heavily against it. She doesn’t want to throw them up, she wants them to work. She wants Alex to live with it for the rest of his life. The older sister has rushed to dial 911, trying to keep her younger sister awake by shaking her at the shoulders. 

By the time the sirens arrive, Eliza is barely conscious. She closes her eyes as the first gloved hand touches her, gladly welcoming the deafening darkness.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unwanted encounter. (part one of two)

When her eyes open, they are met with an unpleasant bright light and Eliza groans and shuts them. Something rustles in the room and suddenly a cool hand covers her warm one, and she cracks open one eye again.

“Lizzie?” Angelica asks quietly, biting her lip nervously. Eliza opens both her eyes to meet her sister’s, and shifts uncomfortably.

“I’m not dead,” she notes aloud, admittedly slightly relieved as her eyes flick to the IV in her free hand.

“No, you aren’t. They got the pills out of your system,” Angelica says, her voice heavy. Eliza says nothing for a few minutes, looking back up at the ugly fluorescent light.

“Does he know?” She asks a minute later, her voice dry. Angelica sighs, shifting by crossing her legs in her chair. 

“No, I didn’t tell him. Last I checked he was staying at some hotel,” she replied, now taking Eliza’s hand in both of hers. “I won’t tell him unless you want me to.” 

“Did you tell the-” Eliza starts, only to be interrupted by the loud, brain-piercing sound of her phone ringing. Angelica quickly takes the device and looks at the caller ID.

“It’s Philip,” she says, holding the phone out. “Do you want me to answer it? I can if you don’t want to-”

“Give it to me,” Eliza interrupts, taking the phone and pressing the ‘answer’ button. “Hi, Pip. How are you doing?” She clenches her fist when she realizes how tired her voice sounds.

“Mom, what happened?” Philip asks in a quiet voice. She can hear the chatter of the other kids in the background.

“Who told you?” She asks in return, although she knows the answer already.

“Aunt Angelica. She told Angie and I that you were in the hospital, but none of the other kids know,” he replies, keeping his voice low. Eliza sighs, closing her eyes for a moment.

“Put me on speaker phone. They deserve to know what’s going on,” Eliza requests, ignoring the look of apprehension on Angelica’s face. Philip mumbles an ‘okay’ and she can hear him calling everyone to get together. Once the shuffling dies down, a small voice pipes up. 

“Hi Mama,” James’s voice says. Eliza feels tears filling her eyes, but she quickly pushes them back down.

“Hi, my darlings,” she says softly, smiling when a chorus of ‘hello’s is the response. “I don’t think Philip or Angie told you, but Mama’s in the hospital. I fell, so I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” Angelica looks at her, frowning, but Eliza continues to ignore her.

"What about Daddy?" Another voice says, and she recognizes it as AJ before someone else shushes him. Her heart seizes for a moment, but she is able to contain herself enough to answer. 

"Don't worry," she repeats, trying to keep her voice passive. "Just have some fun with Grandma and Grandpa, alright? Don't worry about us." A few of them start talking all at once and there's rustling, she can hear Philip trying to shush them. "I have to go, loves. I'll talk to you later, alright?" She continues, trying to hide how choked up she's getting. There are a few protests but she hangs up before she can really understand their words. Silently, she hands the phone back to Angelica.

"Why did you tell them that?" Angelica asks quietly, putting her phone down on the table next to Eliza's bed.

"They're too young," Eliza whispers, clenching her fists as hot tears spill past her eyelashes and down her cheeks. "How could he _do_ this to them?" Angelica takes her hand again, putting it between both of hers.

"I don't know, baby," she replies softly. "I don't know." They sit like that in silence, the humming of machines is the only thing keeping it from being heavy. "I'm going to the food court. Do you need anything?" Angelica pipes up after a while. Eliza shakes her head and closes her eyes, listening to her sister's footsteps as she leaves the room.

She has almost completely drifted off when the door opens again. She opens her eyes, and Angelica's name is halfway out of her mouth when someone else speaks.

"Eliza?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm an asshole who keeps forgetting to update but hello everyone i am no longer at sleepaway camp or in school so i can now force myself to do this s h i t! i totally bullshitted this chapter and it's short and i'm adding the second part right after i add this but anyway i feed off of comments so leave one if you can be bothered to;)


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unwanted encounter. (part two of two)

Eliza's throat closes up. Her heart is racing in her ears, and her hands are shaking before she can register anything else.

_It's him._

"Eliza?" He asks again, and his voice is weak, broken almost. He sniffs, and she can hear him take a tentative step forward. The door closes behind him.

"Why are you here," she whispers, more of a statement than a question, clutching at the sheets beneath her. She doesn't lift her head; she can't look at him. She won't.

"Please...please, Eliza, I," he pauses, taking a deep breath. "The hospital called me and told me you...tried to overdose. I-"

"I-" she pauses, shifting herself up against her pillows. “Just go, please, I need you to go.” Alexander looks at her as Eliza looks at him and their eyes meet briefly. He looks worse than before. The bruise-like bags are still prominent under his eyes. His goatee looks unshaven and messy, different from how neat it usually looks. The strands of gray in his dark hair look more defined than she remembered. He's wearing the black coat she had bought for him last Christmas, and it is wet with rainwater. His hair is pulled back loosely, and his hands are jammed into his jean pockets. Part of her wished she could get out of bed and cup his face, run her thumbs down the roughness of his cheeks and press soft kisses to his temple. She would convince him to get some rest, and they would fall asleep together on this bed, fingers intertwined and bodies pressed together.

In another life.

"I love you," he murmurs, and she watches as tears fill his eyes and as he ducks his head to avoid her stare. 

"Don't," Eliza mutters, her fists tightening around the sheets. "Not right now. Please, just get out."

"I never meant for you to...to do that," he replies quietly. "T-to make you...you know-"

"You," Eliza cuts him off, her voice trembling with sudden anger as she points at him accusingly. "You think this is all about you - it's always about _Alexander_ ," she spits out. She sits up, kicks her legs over the side of the bed, even though her whole body aches terribly. Without hesitation, she closes her fist around the IV tube and pulls it out of her hand, followed by the tube latched into her forearm. Alex's eyes widen. 

"Betsey, please-"

"Don't call me that!" Eliza yells, standing up shakily and moving towards him. "Don't you look at me that way! You can't just come in here and expect me to throw myself into your fucking arms! I don't want you here! I don't want you!"

"Eliza," Alex says quietly, trying to calm her down without physical contact. He so badly wants to touch her, to feel her under his hands again. "I-I came to see if you were okay, they called me and I was worried. I thought you were really hurt or something. Please understand, I care about you. You’re my wife."

"I'm not yours anymore," Eliza bites out, digging her fingernails into her palms. Alex lets out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment. His expression makes it look she'd actually hit him. "Stop pretending you have the right to me anymore."

"I love you, Eliza, I never stopped loving you."

"Get out."

"Don't push me away, I need you to-"

"Stop.”

"Listen to me!" Alexander says loudly as tears fill his eyes again, causing her to stumble back in surprise. "I need you to just give me a chance, I need you to talk to me-"

"I said," Eliza cut him off again, her voice deadly quiet. "Get out." Alexander looks at her, like the broken man he is, and opens the door. Eliza sinks down against the wall as the door closes. She cries then, cries until her head aches and her face is sticky with tears and her fingers are digging bruises into the flesh of her arms. The door opens again, what feels like hours later, and suddenly Angelica's arms are enveloping her and her cool hands are wiping the hot tears from her swollen cheeks and brushing tangled hair from her wet eyes. Angelica sees the dried blood on the floor and on her sister's arm and hospital gown but doesn't question it.

"Eliza," she murmurs in a soothing voice, rocking her sister gently back and forth.

"I-it hurts," Eliza gasps, clutching Angelica's arm. "My h-heart. It r-really hurts, A-Ange."

"Shh," Angelica whispers, stroking Eliza's hair back. "You married an Icarus, babe. He flew too close to the sun."

In that moment, Eliza wonders how exactly Angelica manages to always be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that sucked but i was watching harry potter and writing so it took me like 4 hours to get my shit together anyway have fun kids i am trying to update more often


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza finds something she wishes she hadn't.

Two days later, the hospital discharges Eliza and she goes home with a warning and a bottle of prenatal vitamins. Angelica watches her closely, and she rids the house of anything Eliza could possibly use to hurt herself. Eliza thinks it's funny, how much her sister cares. It's her sister; but she hates that she can't figure out if she's being genuine or not.

One night, Angelica has left to go grocery shopping. They've run out out of food faster than she thought possible, especially since the house is missing most of its occupants. Eliza almost convinces herself to just sleep so she doesn't have to think, but she's been doing that an awful lot lately.

She goes to Alex's office. Opens the laptop that he forgot to take when he left; she assumes he's been using someone else's. She goes to his email account. Under the organized categories, there is a folder marked _Reynolds_. She does not click on it. It's more than she can handle right now. She reads all the folder names, but her eyes come to a stop when she reaches the one labeled _Angelica_.

She clicks on it.

Multiple pages of emails pop up, and Eliza gnaws on her bottom lip as she reads the subjects. They're all labeled cryptically, and she clicks on one to read it. She reads another. And another, and another.

By the time she has read the sixth email, there are tears burning unpleasantly in her eyes and her fingernails have drawn beads of blood from her palms. All of the emails sound almost like love letters. Eliza knows how Alexander flirts, and it is right there, displayed on the screen before her. How he misses her, misses her eyes and her voice and how she misses _his_ eyes and speaking to him when Eliza is out with the children, how they love to Skype when Eliza is grocery shopping and how he wishes she hadn't gone to London, away from him for so long. How they long for each other. How he calls her his 'dearest'.

She'd always kind of seen it, but she never thought much of it. 

The door opens and Angelica's voice calls her name immediately. Eliza slowly shuts the laptop and stands up, her thoughts racing wildly. A moment later, Angelica enters the study, and her shoulders sag in relief.

"Oh, Lizzie, I got worried when you didn't respond to me. What's wrong? Do you feel okay?"

"I-" Eliza's voice catches, and presses a hand to her chest, right above her heart.

"Lizzie, come on. I'll make you dinner, you haven't eaten in a while."

"I know, Angelica," Eliza says, spitting out her sister's name as if it's poison on her tongue. Angelica looks taken aback, and she steps forward.

"Eliza, what are you talking about?" She asks slowly, unsure of whether or not she should reach out and take her sister's hands.

"I know about you and him," Eliza says in a low voice, digging her nails back into the scabs in her skin.

"Baby, you're tired. Come on, let me-"

"You love him. He loves you," Eliza whispers, tears stinging her eyes again. "I should've known." Angelica's eyes widen for a moment, but she quickly fixes herself before replying.

"No, I don't. He doesn't love me, he loves you. Eliza, I'm telling you the truth."

"I just read your emails," Eliza replies, her voice trembling. "How _could_ you?" 

"We didn't want to tell you," Angelica says quietly after a long moment. "We didn't think you'd want us to see each other."

"I am your sister. Did you really think that low of me? So low that you resorted to sneaking around behind my back?"

"I'm sorry, Lizzie. I'm really sorry, I never meant for you to-"

"For me to find out?" Eliza asks loudly, and she sounds like she's bordering on hysteria. "I hate you, Angelica. Get out of my house."

"Eliza! You don't mean that!"

"GET OUT!" Eliza screams, picking up the closest thing to her (which happens to be a vase of dead flowers) and flinging it into the wall. It shatters in a beautiful shower of broken crystal, littering the floor like a piece of modern art. Angelica looks horrified. "Leave my house!" 

Her sister hesitates, but she turns on her heel and Eliza hears the door close a moment later.

__________

Twenty minutes later, Eliza has dragged herself to bed. The vase still lays in pieces on the office floor. Eliza's head feels heavy, like she's drowning and her brain is weighing her down. She wishes, for the first time in her life, that she didn't have children. That they could be spared from this. 

"Maybe we should just run away," she says in a low voice, resting her hand on her stomach. She wishes her unborn child didn't have to grow in her body at this moment. It feels too much like her whole being is being shoved through a paper shredder. "Somewhere where they'd never find us. Where I could protect you." Her voice lowers to a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my darling. You don't deserve this. You-" her voice cracks, "you deserve a father. One who loves you as much as I do." She knows the answer to this predicament, and she's still married to him. It's unbelievable how much Alexander loves his children, how he is fiercely willing to do anything for them. Her eyes are still miraculously dry as she thinks this. She has cried too much for her own liking. "...At least I have you with me though, right?" She adds, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Even if you'd rather not be with me. I'll sort this out for you, alright? I'll make it safe for you." She pauses, running her fingers over the scabs in her palms. "I wish I could save you from me," she continues in a sad whisper. "I wish I could save everyone from me." Finally, she closes her eyes, curled up on her side of the bed.

"Even myself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i hate h*mgelica but ive never read a fic in which eliza finds their letters soOooOO and WOW 3 chapters in one day even if theyre shitty that is an acComplishment also oof i should be asleep goodbye children


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza gets her kids back.

The children come back a week later, after Eliza calls her mother and tells her she can take care of them. When they arrive, she hugs each of them tightly and chokes back the tears threatening to spill. She loves her kids. So much. She doesn’t tell them anything, why Aunt Angelica has suddenly left, why their mother still looks like a ghost. She smiles. She does their laundry, she cooks dinner. She gives James and John baths and laughs when James makes himself a bubble beard. She doesn’t argue when Angelica eats ice cream right before bedtime, but she can hear Philip speaking to her under his breath. As she kisses them goodnight, AJ clings to her a little longer than usual. 

“Mom,” he whispers, holding the fabric of her cardigan sleeve. She knows he’s being quiet so Philip won't hear; they share a room. She sits down on the bed beside him properly, cups his face and gives him a gentle, reassuring smile. She almost finds it unbelievable herself how much she can put up an act around her children. 

“What is it, my darling?” Eliza asks softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Even in the dim light, it is astonishing how much her son resembles his father at this moment. The slight crease in his brow, the look in his eyes—Alexander’s eyes. She swallows. 

“Are we gonna see Dad soon?” AJ whispers, closing his eyes for a moment as his mother strokes his cheek. Eliza winces a bit, tears her eyes from her son and fixes them on the window a few feet from his bed. 

“I’ll talk to your father tomorrow,” she replies quietly, raising the other arm to wipe her sleeve under her nose. “Don't worry about it, it’s not what you need right now.” It's not convincing, but it's hard to be when you haven't even convinced yourself yet.

“But, Mom-”

“Go to sleep, Alex-” she catches herself, blinks, “baby. I’ll see you in the morning.” AJ nods, lies down, and Eliza leans forward to kiss his forehead. She says goodnight to her daughter, shuts her light off, and retreats to her own bedroom. 

She is exhausted. 

Somehow, Eliza figured that seeing her kids again would help fill the emptiness in her chest, the suffocating space that makes her feel like she’s twenty feet down underwater and the water pressure is squeezing her to death. They've helped, because she loves them, but she seems him in everything they do.

Philip’s personality, just like Alexander. Angelica’s brightness, how sharp she is. AJ is his father's spitting image, and it hurts to look at him for too long. James’s eyes, the same deep brown that she’s used to staring into. And John, his small laugh and the way he is absolutely mesmerized when one of his parents reads to him, as if he’s drinking in the words like sweet lemonade. 

Eliza climbs into bed. She stays on her side, still does, always will. It’s dark, the moon is casting dull light onto the duvet from the windows. She breathes heavily, resting her head on her hand. The other hand finds the chain around her neck; the small pearl on a fine gold chain that Alexander gave her for her twenty-eighth birthday. She can still remember that night, how his lips felt on her warm skin, how he kissed her down her stomach and left marks on her upper thighs and the soft skin below her breasts. That night resulted in AJ. 

Eliza closes her hand around the chain and then closes her eyes, hoping morning will bring some sort of relief. Suddenly the bed dips beside her, someone lies down behind her back. She inhales and it’s him, it’s Alex, he’s running his hand down her side and pressing chaste kisses to her shoulder, making her shudder as he runs his fingers through her hair and then latches his hands over her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her back in a slow, circular motion. He knows she loves it, he knows she loves _him_ —

“Mom?” The person asks. It’s Philip. He isn't touching her except for the hand on her arm. Eliza gathers the strength she has left and turns over so she can look at her baby. She gives him a weak smile, covers his hand with hers. 

“Hi, love. What’s wrong?” She asks, lowering her voice to a whisper so he can't hear how drained she is. 

“Are you okay?”

Eliza feels a laugh bubble up in her throat, but she forces it back down. She wants to say _yes, I’m fine, don't worry about me_. But for the first time, the lie feels foreign on her tongue. Is she okay? No. When was the last time she even was okay? It feels like she can't remember. She wants to hurl herself off a bridge and hope the impact knocks the life out of her. She wants to take a golf club to the walls, break the plaster, damage the wood that has their love story written in its scaffolding. 

“I’m fine,” Eliza manages, although it makes her chest sting and she closes her eyes for a moment before reopening them. She smiles again, although it wobbles. She sees Philip recognize her lie, but all he does is tighten his comforting grip on her arm. 

“I love you, Mama,” he whispers, and at that, Eliza’s eyes fill with tears. She pulls her boy to her, holds his head to her chest and hugs him tightly. 

“I love you too, baby,” she replies tearfully, pressing a few kisses to the crown of his head. They fall asleep like that, and Eliza finds the comforting weight of her firstborn to be enough. For now. 

__________

Alexander returns the next day. 

He says something to her, about not having to speak to him, he’s here for the children, and she doesn't have to think it's for her if she doesn't want to. She isn't listening.  
Meals at the Hamilton house are louder now, the children speak among themselves and those who haven't established grudges against their father ask him about his day. When they aren't eating, he retreats to his office. Sometimes he reads to John on the couch, or takes James for walks. The rest of them avoid him.

Eliza stays in their bedroom. Their eyes catch over dinner sometimes, when she is carrying the laundry basket up the stairs, when she comes downstairs at night for a glass of water. She sees the way his eyes linger on her abdomen before he retreats silently. If this were even months before now, they’d be in bed together, Eliza propped up by pillows as Alex read from a book aloud to their baby. He loved to do that. He always wanted his children to know his voice from the start, to know that he would be there for them, protect them from anything. 

And sometimes she weeps after the lights have been turned off, weeps for what could've been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was kind of a filler chapter but i wrote it on a plane so?? what can you expect really


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's point of view.

The shitty motel Alexander has rented out is cramped and dark and depressing and he really, really hates it. He spends most of his day here, sitting in the flimsy wooden chair in front of the old desk, hunched over his laptop until he realizes it's some obscene hour of the early morning and has enough sense to put away his computer so he can at least get forty-five minutes of glorious sleep. The bags under his eyes are practically bruises, and he knows that if Eliza were here she would make him get some rest. Sometimes he can almost feel her beside him as he drifts off in the old, rickety bed; he can feel her arm snaking under his to wrap around his torso and her steady breathing on his shoulder and her hair tickling the back of his neck. When he turns and realizes it isn't real, he curses himself for fucking it all up. What he wouldn't give to have her in his arms right now, to be in hers.

He knows his wife. He knows everything about her, the way she hates it when anyone touches her throat except for when Alex is kissing her neck, the way her nose wrinkles when she dislikes something, the way she loves it when he sits her down in front of the couch and braids her hair. Sometimes, he thinks that he knows her as well as she knows herself, and she knows the same for him. They can read the other's expression and know exactly how they're feeling, exactly what to do about it. Eliza always knew when Alex was moments from a panic attack, and she would wrap him in a blanket and hold his shaking hands and stroke his hair and kiss him gently and whisper soft words of reassurance as she wrapped her arms around him loosely. If he didn't want her to touch him, she would easily comply and sit a few inches away, continuing to tell him _It's going to be okay, I'll keep you safe_ until he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his forehead to her chest and she hugged him and kissed his tears away with a gentle smile. She made him believe it would be okay. She made him feel the safest he'd ever felt.

And he'd thrown it all away.

Truth be told, Alex had been missing Eliza terribly when Maria Reynolds came up to him, as he sat in the coffee shop that his wife and her sister liked to meet at every Wednesday. She looked nervous and skittish and he'd shut his laptop, halfway through writing an email to Eliza. He'd never gotten to send that email.

When he dropped Maria off at her apartment, she had offered to make him coffee; as if they hadn't just come from a coffee shop. Not wanting to seem rude, he followed her inside and didn't emerge from her door until six o'clock that night, tie askew and red lipstick staining the top of his shirt collar. When he got home, he had four missed calls and seven texts from Eliza, all extremely frantic. He had missed their scheduled Skype at four, and he hastily sent her a long winded apology with some made up story about being called into work for an emergency meeting. She forgave him, made him promise not to worry her like that again, said to make sure he ate and slept well and told him she loved him. He said it back.

And when they did Skype, it was usually right after Alex had returned from Maria's or right after she left his and Eliza's house. He felt a million times more guilty when they fucked in his bed, where Eliza belonged. The sheets were even a gift from her parents. When he saw Eliza's face on the screen, her beautiful eyes and the smile that lit up her whole face - _she was so in love, he had really fucked up_ \- he had to use every aspect of his willpower to swallow the guilt rising like bile up his throat. He loved his wife, he _loves_ his wife, he ached for her, he _aches_ for her. What he felt for Maria was definitely more like lust than love, and when she murmured a breathless "I love you" after they had just had sex, he pretended he was asleep to avoid saying it back. 

When Eliza and all of his children returned from upstate, he sent Maria an email about stopping their meetings. She seemed upset, tried to talk him into seeing her at least one last time, but he refused. After their welcome home dinner and after all the kids had been put to bed, Eliza led him to bed and gave him that look, the one full of pure love and adoration and he melted under her touch as she pulled his shirt off and began to press chaste kisses down his sternum. He forgot about his disloyalty for just one night as they made love, but he couldn't help the tears that spilled over his lower lashes as they lay together, side by side in the opal moonlight, chests heaving, skin flushed. 

"Baby boy," Eliza had whispered, concern laced through her words as she turned and took his hand in hers. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Alex had lied in a quiet voice, the guilt rising up again as he felt her slender fingers between his. He felt the hardness of her wedding ring and had to choke back a sob. "I, just, uh... I m-missed you."

Eliza smiled then, a gentle upturn of her lips that made Alex's mind reel. She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it, running her other thumb down his jaw. 

“I missed you too, darling,” she whispered, her breath against his skin making him shudder. And they'd fallen asleep like that, her head pillowed on his chest and their limbs tangled together. He still felt guilty. 

A few days later, he got an email from James Reynolds, Maria's husband. He knew, knew everything, and he promised to tell Eliza if Alexander didn't provide him with finances. He didn't sleep for days, instead spent his time holed up in his office, running his fingers through his bedraggled hair, trying to think, think, _think_. Eliza couldn't find out, not like this. He had to do what he had to do. So he paid James Reynolds, and did so again and again as the emails kept coming in.

When Eliza told him that she was pregnant again a couple weeks later, he pretended that the sobs he was emitting into her hair as they embraced tightly were for joy. 

The night they’d told the kids about their new sibling, Alex nervously excused himself from the dinner table despite Eliza’s confused protests. He entered his office and slammed the door behind him. He needed to get everything off his chest, let what he was bottling up out. He was afraid it would slowly melt his insides otherwise.

Over the next four months, he conjured up an essay describing his affair, the reasons behind it, the political effect. It turned out to be ninety-five pages. A few days of deliberation passed and he decided on one late night that he had to publish it. Surely it would be read by much of the country; being Secretary of Treasury wasn't exactly an obscure job. He would be penalized, he knew that for certain, but he could clear his name after the speculation buzzing around about him mishandling government funds. If he published it, he could stop digging into his kids' college funds (he hated himself for that more than anything) to pay off James Reynolds and maybe he could pick up the broken pieces himself.

The morning Alexander published the essay, he realized one thing.

He'd forgotten to mention it to Eliza. His pregnant wife, completely oblivious to the fact that her husband had gone and done awful things behind her back.

And so she would find out, found out, rather, with the rest of the world. And she hated him for it, he hated himself for it. 

__________

As he stands up from the creaky desk and sits on the bed, Alexander closes his eyes. He's going to go back home tomorrow. He's going to make breakfast for his kids and he's going to clean his office and keep his distance from his wife, so maybe he can get her to trust him again. 

Alex doesn't bother to take off his regular clothes as he gets underneath the threadbare sheets and pulls the itchy quilt up to his neck. He thinks of Eliza as he drifts off, and he can almost feel her curled up behind him again. He wants his Betsey back. And he's going to get her, if it's the last thing he ever does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys its been a few weeks and i'm sorry ive had camp. i'm really really really sad right now because i just found out that natasha, pierre & the great comet of 1812 (one of my all time favorite musicals) is closing on broadway. luckily i am getting to see it this saturday but i am still so upset and this beautiful show deserves better. please try and see it if you can. thanks for reading guys, i'm going to try to update soon. i'm just really sad right now, i feel awful for the cast and everyone who invested so much into this beautiful, wonderful show. its a masterpiece and deserves to be on broadway forever. please, try and see it if you can :) this chapter was shitty, and i'm sorry about that i'm just Hella Sad (if you couldnt tell). listen to the soundtrack, its gorgeous. ok i'm going now heck i'm so fucking sad


	8. eight

Three months pass. 

Eliza's chest doesn't feel any less tight and heavy every time she casts her eyes on her husband, but she knows perfectly well how to pretend like it does. Peggy has come from Philadelphia to help her with the kids, and Alex stays in his office most of the time. She misses him, more than she cares to admit, but she still hates him for everything. 

__________

In August, the baby is born. 

Eliza wants him to be there, she wants him to hold her hand and read to her and kiss her forehead and whisper reassuring words in her ear. She misses his presence in everything, but this is the most painful. She’s done it five times with him by her side, and she doesn't know if she can get through the sixth without him. 

In a forced flat voice, she tells Peggy to call him. And she does, and Alexander's heart races when he gets the call. He calls a neighbor to come and watch the kids before getting into his car and going as fast as he can for the hospital. He is directed to a waiting room, where he sits with his head in his hands. Peggy comes out of the room twenty minutes later, and he immediately stands up. 

“You can't go in,” she says, her expression remaining passive as she looks at him. He blinks, unable to process her words for a moment. 

“I...I can't?” He asks in a small voice. He doesn't know _why_ he ever thought Eliza would allow him to come in, but it hurts to hear Peggy say it. 

“You can wait here,” Peggy finishes. Alexander drops back into his seat, his head coming to rest in his hands again. When Peggy enters the room again, Eliza’s eyes are brimming with tears. Her sister just nods in understanding, sits in the chair beside her, and takes her hand. 

A few hours pass, and Alex doesn't feel like he can take it anymore. Eliza has started to scream, clutching Peggy’s hand tightly as sweat beads down her forehead. They both want it to be Alex’s hand instead, but there's nothing to be done. He’s forced to listen to his wife screaming through a hospital door, his head in his hands. 

Peggy returns after another hour, although each feels more like a day. His head snaps up and she pauses before nodding, and he scrambles up and hurries through the door. His eyes fall on the baby, who has just been cleaned up and wrapped in blue blankets. A boy. Alex almost bursts into unadulterated tears, because he has a _son_. Another son. 

“Betsey,” Alex breathes, as a hesitant nurse hands the baby to him. “He’s so beautiful, oh my god, I'm so proud of you, baby. Look at his eyes, they're so big. He’s _so_ beautiful, just like his Mama.”

When he looks up, Eliza is staring at him. Her eyes are full of tears, and she looks like she wishes he had been there, holding her hand, whispering in her ear. He misses her. She misses him, but she isn't ready to admit it. 

"Do you want me to go?" Alexander asks hesitantly. Peggy has left the room, and the last nurse leaves after cleaning Eliza up. He desperately hopes her answer isn't yes.

"No," Eliza says immediately, inhaling and closing her eyes. Her voice is weak. "I...Someone needs to watch him," she adds quietly. "Could...you read something to him? It, uh, always helps them sleep." Eliza's cheeks flush. What she doesn't say is that she wants to hear his voice again, how he stresses his syllables and reads slowly, confidently and rough and sweet like honey spread on toast. She always used to fall asleep to his voice, she would make him read anything to her; shampoo bottle labels, toothbrush boxes, tabloids. His voice always did wonders. God, she loves her Alex so much.

Alex looks surprised, and then he grins, carefully settling himself into the chair beside Eliza's bed, the baby cradled in his arm as he reaches into his bag for his copy of _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_. Eliza's eyes fall on the book, and she smiles a little.

"My favorite," she murmurs, looking at the cover intently.

"Your favorite," Alex repeats, his grin widening as he opens the book to the first page. "If you want me to leave, just...tell me, okay? I don't want to make either of you uncomfortable." Eliza nods, swallowing and leaning back into her pillows, her eyes closing as Alex begins to read smoothly. 

"The villagers of Little Hangleton still called it 'the Riddle House,' even though it had been many years since the Riddle family lived there."

Eliza hears the baby coo, and she sighs contently, clinging to and drinking each one of his words. After a while, she stops listening to the words, instead focusing on his coppery voice as she drifts off. Just before she falls asleep completely, Alex interrupts himself.

"Betsey? What's his name?" He whispers tentatively. Her hand twitches a little.

"It's William," she murmurs, and the last thing she remembers before she drifts off is the way her chest tightness fades away and the beautifully comforting feeling of his fingers intertwined with hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo i'm so sorry about the update delay but if yall read my last chapter note abt great comet i actually got to see it twice before it closed which i'm sosossoosososo grateful for but yEAH i just started high school so updating is,,,,,,,,a questionable process also its been a month since comet closed and i am >], still not ok anyway heres a shitty short kind of fluffy chapter, hope u enjoyed xoxoxo


	9. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> honestly idk its just Fluff

Eliza arrives home to the rest of her kids with William cradled to her chest and Alexander in tow, carrying her hospital bag. They're obviously excited over William as she carefully passes him around. Angie presents him with a blanket she knitted in her art class at school, and little Johnny gives Alexander a drawing of their family done in many shades of Crayon (which earns him a tearful kiss from his mother and a special place on the refrigerator). 

Once William is settled in the nursery, Alex insists that she rests because he knows she's still incredibly sore though she denies it - this is their sixth time, after all. She doesn't want to be away from their babies, so they all settle on the couch to watch Harry Potter while William sleeps and Eliza keeps a baby monitor beside her. For dinner they order pizza and Eliza's hand finds Alex's under the table while Philip is talking about a history assignment he's stressing over. Once they finish, Alexander jumps up to clear their plates and Eliza smiles at him gratefully as he dishes out ice cream for the kids. 

Once it's time for bed, she makes sure William is okay before starting to say goodnight to the other kids. Slowly, Eliza kisses James and John and cuddles Angelica before turning their lights out. She takes her time, smooths down their hair and takes in their features, half hers and half Alex's. They're all beautiful, her babies, and sometimes it feels like she blinked and missed them growing up. By the time she gets to Philip and AJ's room, she's tired from standing up and sitting down repeatedly but she's still more than willing to do it again. When she opens the door, their lamps are on and they're both sitting up in bed. Raising her eyebrows, she shuts the door behind her.

"Is there something wrong, loves?" Eliza asks, slowly sitting down in a chair by Philip's desk. The boys both exchange looks, and she frowns. 

"Are you and Dad getting a divorce?" AJ blurts, staring down at his hands. Eliza's face reddens, and she shifts in her seat as Philip looks at her sadly. 

"Boys," she starts, running her fingers through her hair as she lets out a sigh. "Your father and I are trying to work through this. Okay? Please don't worry about us, I don't want either of you to stress yourselves out over it."

"That's not an answer," Philip says quietly, his voice nearly inaudible. Eliza looks up at her firstborn and bites down hard on her bottom lip.

"No. We're not getting a divorce, not for now. We're trying really hard to fix everything. It'll be okay, I promise," she says softly, pulling herself up again so she can sit on AJ's bed. She tucks his hair behind his ear as he lies down, looking as troubled as his father. Much too conflicted for an eleven-year-old. "Go to sleep, Junior," Eliza says soothingly, using her fingers to smooth out the creases in his forehead. He sighs and leans into her touch. 

"Love you, Mama," he mutters, closing his eyes as she kisses his forehead. 

"I love you, too," she whispers, kissing his cheek before standing and sitting down beside Philip.

"You didn't just say that for him, right?" Her boy whispers almost urgently, gripping her hand tightly when she offers it.

"Of course not," Eliza replies, cupping Philip's face in her hand. 

"Are you sure? I don't want you to lie," he says, pursing his lips as Eliza shakes her head.

"I promise, Pip. I meant every word, I really did. We're trying to fix all of this, but it takes time. We all have to try and be strong, but I'll always be here for you, okay? I love you and your brothers and sister more than anything in the world."

"Okay," Philip whispers, pulling on her hand like he wants her to lie down. She does, and he moves the blankets so she can get underneath and wrap her arms around him. "Thanks, Mama."

"Of course, sweet boy," Eliza whispers, rubbing his back gently. "I know this has been hard on you, and I'm so, _so_ sorry. I'm gonna make it better."

Philip lets out a breath, and she can tell he's crying by the wetness against her shoulder. He nods and she hugs him closer, smoothing his curls down. 

"I love you so much. I'll never love you any less, no matter how many other babies we decide to have. You're my Philip, and I love you so much that it hurts," she whispers in his ear. "And I'm so proud of you. You've done so much for your brothers and sister when I couldn't and you knew how I was feeling even when I didn't say it. You are so amazing, sweetheart. You're an amazing brother and the best son I could ever have hoped for." Philip curls up against her and buries his face even more into the crook of her neck. She kisses his forehead a few times. 

"I love you, Mama," he murmurs, clutching her tighter as he lets out a quiet sob. She holds him for a few moments before pulling away to wipe his face with her hands.

"I love you too, Peanut. It's time for you to get some rest, okay?" His grip on her tightens immediately. "Come to my room if you need anything," she adds, slowly sitting up and kissing his forehead again. "I'll see you in the morning. I love you to the moon and back."

"I love you too," Philip whispers, bringing the hand he's clutching up to kiss it. She smiles and stands slowly, turning off both their lamps. Eliza casts one last glance at the two of them before leaving and shutting the door behind her. She goes to the nursery and finds William awake, staring at the mobile suspended above his crib in wonder. She laughs gently and picks him up, prompting his wide, dark doe's eyes to land on her.

"Hello, my beautiful boy," she coos softly, bouncing him a little as she settles in the rocking chair. His eyes follow hers as she smiles and kisses his cheeks. "You have your Daddy's eyes. But you've got my nose, you know. A Schuyler nose," she says, raising her eyebrow at the baby. His eyes widen impossibly more at the facial expression change. "That's a very good thing, did you know that? Your Nana and Grandpa will love you to bits, just like your aunties and uncles. Soon we'll take you to Albany to visit them. I think you'll like it. We can sit on the porch in the breeze and I can take you through the woods. The woods are my favorite place. It's so calm and beautiful, it's a good place to go and read or just think." William is watching her intently, his face relaxed and looking like the sound of her voice was enough to calm him completely. "But I have one condition, okay? You can't grow up so fast. All of your brothers and your sister are growing up faster than I can even believe. I want you to be my baby for a little while longer. Do you think you can do that?"

After a moment, William gurgles and closes his fist around her finger. Eliza laughs softly. She hears a chuckle joining her own and turns to see Alex, leaning against the doorway and watching her. 

"Hi," she says quietly, lifting William so he can rest his head on her shoulder as she pats his back. Alex folds his arms across his chest and looks her right in the eyes.

"Hey," he replies, giving her a small smile. "Is everything okay?"

"Mhm," Eliza hums, gently kissing the side of William's head as he squirms and tugs a little on her hair. "He seems really good so far. Not a crier like Johnny."

"Can...I hold him?" Alex asks, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding her gaze as he stares at the baby. Eliza fastens her arm around Will and pulls herself to her feet again, carrying him over to Alex. Their eyes meet again as she hands him over, and the baby's face crumples when he realizes he's not in his mother's arms anymore. He lets out a wail, but Alexander quickly soothes him by bouncing him gently, humming a tune under his breath and grinning when William stops crying to stare at his dad. 

"He's got-"

"Your eyes," Eliza finishes, watching her husband and their son with a surprising lightness in her chest. William coos and reaches out to touch Alex's face, to which Alex's expression softens and he kisses his forehead. The baby stares for a moment before the corners of his mouth turn upwards in a toothless smile. 

"I love him," Alex whispers, settling him against his shoulder and looking at Eliza with tears in his eyes.

"I do too," she replies, and they stay like that for a few long moments as Alex rocks William and sings a song that she recognizes from when their other kids were babies. Suddenly, he lets out another loud wail and Alex looks up at Eliza with wide eyes as the baby bursts into tears. Eliza quickly takes him from Alex and sits back in the rocking chair, shushing him gently as she pulls her shirt up to let him eat. He quiets as soon as he latches on, and she relaxes a little and lets out a sigh. Silence fills the room again, and Alex and Eliza look back at each other but neither of them say anything. 

"I, uh, just came to say goodnight," Alexander says finally, moving his eyes down to William. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" He starts to move towards the door, and Eliza doesn't stop to think before words start coming out of her mouth.

"Wait," she says quickly, and Alex turns to look at her. William startles a little at the volume of her voice, but she tightens her grip on him and he quickly recovers.

"Yeah?" He asks, running his hand through his hair. 

"Do you...could you come to bed tonight?" She whispers, and she sees his jaw go slack.

"...Eliza," he starts, his voice low. "You don't want me to sleep there."

"Alex-"

"Really, I don't deserve that. I'll sleep in the office, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Please?" Eliza cuts in, lifting up Will and pulling her shirt down once he's finished. "I want you there." Alex stares at her, and she can almost see the gears turning in his head. 

“Okay,” he says finally, nodding his head. “If you’re sure. I can go if you get uncomfortable.”

Eliza stands up again and carefully lays William back in his crib after pressing a kiss to his cheek. She turns on his nightlight and turns off the lamp in the corner. She walks up to Alex, standing closer to him than she ever has since he confessed.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and watches as his eyes flick down to her lips. Hastily, he moves to open the door for her and she gives him a small smile as she leaves the nursery. He follows, shutting William’s door as quietly as he can. Their bedroom is only a few steps from the nursery, and Eliza is the one to shut the door after Alex enters behind her. He watches her nervously, as if he’ll do something wrong and she’ll kick him out. 

Silently, Eliza starts to brush her hair with the brush lying atop their dresser, facing the wall away from him. He hesitantly goes into the bathroom and changes into the pair of pajamas that he hasn’t used in months because they’ve been sitting at the bottom of the same dresser. He swears they were folded more neatly last time he’d seen them, but he doesn’t feel like asking Eliza about it. 

They both brush their teeth and Alex watches wordlessly as Eliza scrubs her face with a washcloth and puts on her face cream. It always made her face smell like cherry blossoms, he remembers. 

Soon enough, they’re both lying in bed. It’s been months since the both of them have been in this bed together, and Alex wants to pull Eliza close to him, bury his face in her hair, and drift off while she hooks her leg over his and settles against him. But neither of them are really ready for that yet. Eliza leans over to turn off her lamp, and suddenly they’re both lying on their backs in the darkness, inches apart, staring at the ceiling.

“Goodnight, Alexander,” Eliza finally pipes up a few long minutes later. Her voice is soft, lacking the hardness he’d gotten used to.

“Goodnight, Betsey,” Alex murmurs, and he feels her freeze for a moment before turning over. Letting out a breath, he closes his eyes and turns in the opposite direction. Sleep comes quickly.

His eyes open again some hours later, and the room is still dark. His heart almost skips a beat when he realizes Eliza is pressed up against his back, her hair tickling his neck. Carefully, as not to wake her up, he turns over and shifts closer to her, moving until their faces are only a few millimeters apart. As if she’d sensed it, Eliza sniffs in her sleep, scoots down, and rests her cheek against his collarbone. He hesitates, but puts his arm around her waist and has to swallow down tears when she lets out a small, contented sigh. 

And when she wakes up enveloped in his arms as sunlight streams into their bedroom, she thinks maybe it’s enough again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating i'm a loser but schools kicking my ass anyway i love hamliza. bye


	10. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i cant write sex because ive never done it

Over the course of the next few months, the tension in the Hamilton household begins to thaw and melt away. Eliza no longer avoids Alex's gaze and flinches when he touches her. Their kids don't stare at their father with as much hatred as they used to. Baby William has brought the two of them together, and they often find themselves watching their children play with the baby with matching smiles on their faces.

Alex hasn't officially been allowed to sleep in his and Eliza's bedroom again. She asks him to when she wants him to, but most nights he sleeps on the blow-up mattress in his office. She has resumed cooking him breakfast, and he makes a point to eat with his family during every meal. Sometimes he takes James and John to the park so they can play catch together, and he tries to get AJ, Angelica and Philip to come to the movies or go bowling or to an arcade. 

Eliza watches him carefully, holding the baby on her hip. Her heart swells a little when she sees him trying to connect with their children. He didn't before, but his effort is enough to make her smile a little bit. 

__________

Fall comes, and they eat Thanksgiving dinner as a family. It's loud and lively and the older Angelica is invited, along with Peggy and their husbands. Eliza was quick to call her sister and apologize for getting so angry after William was born. Maybe it was the hormones, but she loves her sister and doesn't regret it.

Eliza is on a high once everyone goes home, her cheeks are pink with the sparkling champagne Peggy brought with her. Her chest is buzzing, and she hasn't felt so content with just being with her family since before the pamphlet was published. She and Alex tuck all of their kids into bed and start to clean up the mess. 

The dining room and kitchen are quiet except for the clinking of silverware and plates and bowls as Alex carries dishes to the sink and Eliza wipes down the counter. She vacuums the floor as he loads the dishwasher, and she starts to put away the placemats she'd set out.

"That was fun," Alex says, his voice a little hesitant as he watches her move around. Eliza pauses for a minute, running her finger over the fabric of one of the placemats.

"It was," she agrees after a moment, keeping her eyes on a loose thread. "I think the kids had a good time."

"Did you have a good time?" He asks, his voice a little doubtful. She looks up to meet his eyes, and he's wringing his hands a little nervously. Eliza smiles a little. She loves how much he cares about everything she thinks.

"Yeah, I did," she says, moving to put the placemats away. "We haven't had family time like that in a while."

"Yeah," he echoes, keeping his eyes on hers as she straightens back up.

She doesn't know who initiates it, but suddenly his lips are on hers, and she tastes the apple cider on his breath. Eliza pulls away, a little shocked and a little breathless, and his eyes widen a little bit but before he can say anything she's kissing him again. Her lips are warm and sweet and suddenly his hands are moving down her waist and her fingers are tangling into his hair, pulling slightly like she knows he likes. He's the one to pull away this time, his eyes dark with desire like she hasn't seen in so long. 

"Are you sure?" Alex asks in a low voice. Eliza's chest is heaving, and her mind is racing so much that all she can do is nod vigorously and he picks her up suddenly, causing her to giggle as he begins to carry her towards the stairs. She shuts the lights off as they leave the kitchen and he goes up the stairs as quietly as possible, entering the bedroom and kicking the door closed. He lets her go and she pulls him down to the bed on top of her, kissing him hungrily like she's starving. Alex kisses down her neck, sucking at her skin as she shudders at the feeling of his breath and tugs at his hair a little harder.

Eliza grabs at his shirt and starts to unbutton it feverishly, her fingers fumbling. She rips it away, tosses it aside and pushes him down so she can crawl on top of him. She cups the sides of his face and continues to kiss him deeply, smiling when she feels his hands gripping at her hips tightly, moving to the hem of her dress. She quickly leans away to unzip the dress and slips it off and then returns to kissing him, pressing her lips to his shoulder as he reaches behind her to undo her bra. He tosses it away once he gets it off, pausing to put his hands on her hips, kissing her collarbone.

"I love you," he whispers breathlessly. She pauses, moving her hands down to the waistband of his pants. "You're so beautiful." She relaxes a little, knowing he didn't say it for her to say it back.

Eliza tugs at his waistband a little, a silent question. He nods, kissing her neck softly as she unbuttons his pants. He leans up to help her pull them off, and then he pulls her underwear off after she gets his boxers off and away.

They stay still for a moment, both breathless and completely bare. They haven't touched each other like this since before the pamphlet, and Eliza's chest aches with want as she looks him in the eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks again. The last thing he wants is for her to regret it.

"I'm sure," she confirms, pressing her legs tighter against his hips.

__________

Eliza is barely able to bite back her moans and yelps as he rocks his hips against hers. Stars explode behind her eyelids when she reaches her climax, and it feels like her body is buzzing when Alex pulls out, kisses her like she's the sun, and falls back against their pillows. They're both sweating, gasping for breath in the darkness.

"I don't deserve you," Alex whispers, still breathing heavily as he stares up at the ceiling. She doesn't answer for a while, twisting her lip between her teeth.

"Maybe not," she replies, letting out a sigh. "But I need you."

"I feel like you don't," Alex replies, swallowing thickly. "You've always been fine without me."

"I tried to kill myself when I found out you cheated on me," Eliza says pointedly. Alex winces, looking away from her. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's fine, it's fine."

"I just mean - I literally fell apart without you. I was so weak and stupid, I couldn't do anything for myself. I tried to overdose, Alex, and we have six children. I was so selfish."

"You were in pain," Alex replies, knitting his fingers together.

"That's not an excuse," she murmurs, looking down at her hands. "I almost did the worst possible thing to our children, to our babies. I was so weak, it makes me want to go back in time and slap myself. I've never handled something so badly before."

Instead of replying, Alex moves closer and takes her hand, letting her melt into him. He rests his forehead against hers. 

"I love you," he whispers again, closing his eyes. She sighs, pulling herself closer to him and kissing his cheek gently.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u enjoyed that badly written (kind of) smut
> 
> also it's finally almost summer so hopefully i will update more often? idk i alWays say that and never do but i will try
> 
> ive been rereading the old chapters and some are so cringy i hate them so i edited them and hopefully fixed them a little so reread them if u wanna idk ok bye


	11. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> whoops

Eliza finds herself being able to leave her house, William in her arms, looking much less like death than she used to. The fresh autumn air blows her hair back and she cradles her son, bouncing him slightly as she walks towards town. He is nearly three months old, and he's taken a liking to pulling both her and Alex's hair and laughing loudly. Ponytail holders have become a lot more common in their house recently. 

There have been articles written about her family, tabloids with pictures of Alexander plastered across the front that she can't help but notice because they're everywhere. _THE HAMILTONS HEADED FOR DIVORCE_ one said in bold yellow letters, a picture of Alex with awful bags under his eyes underneath the words. She always tries to cover them with other magazines. 

There are people who crowded her at first, shouting questions in her face as she tried to get in her car and drive her children to school. Not so much anymore, after Alexander got absolutely livid and filed a complaint to someone important. 

Eliza brings William to the coffee shop where she used to meet Angelica, the same one where she found out about the pamphlet. She sits him on her lap and orders a cappuccino, feeds him with the bottle she brought and lets him doze in her lap as she watches people walk by through the big glass window at the front of the cafe. Alex is working at home, and Philip has taken Angie and AJ rollerskating. She'd dropped James and John off at Peggy's after she'd offered to entertain them for a bit. She thought about asking Alex to come with her before she left, but decided that it would be nice to have some time for herself and her baby.

Eventually she finishes her coffee and pays, gently lifting William up and grabbing her bag before leaving the cafe. She promised Johnny earlier that she would make spaghetti for dinner, so she walks towards the local grocery store to pick up a few things she needed. 

Eliza shifts Will to her hip as she entered the store, humming along to the song playing overhead. She had just picked up a package of basil when someone knocks into her, sending the basil to the floor and causing William to let out a wail.

"Oh, I'm so-" A woman's voice begins and then stops abruptly, tapering off. Eliza looks up in confusion, but her jaw immediately goes slack at what she sees.

Lips painted crimson. Dark, curly hair. She recognizes her from the photos. Maria Reynolds. 

Eliza immediately takes a step back, hugging her crying son closer to her as she stares, unable to speak or even think.

"Mrs. Hamilton, I'm-" Maria starts to speak after several long moments, her eyes still wide. Eliza's eyes fall on the toddler on her hip, looking to be about a year old. He has dark hair and dark brown eyes, a contrast to Maria's light, nearly hazel ones. If Eliza remembers correctly from the internet, James Reynolds' eyes are blue.

Oh. Oh, no.

Eliza looks back at Maria, her mouth opening wordlessly as her heart races. Those are _his_ eyes. She'd bet her life on it. 

Maria swallows nervously, unsure of what to say. But before she can do much else, Eliza has turned and run, fled as fast as she can go. She runs all the way home, her chest and legs screaming with the sudden exertion and William continuing to cry loudly. All she can do is run, clutch her baby as tightly as she can. She reaches home and realizes that Philip had come home with Angelica and AJ already, so she tries to quiet William before going inside. 

"Hi, Mama, guess what? We-" Angelica begins cheerfully when Eliza enters the house, but Eliza has already gone for the stairs, clutching the banister so tightly she's afraid she might break her own knuckles. "Mama?"

She puts William down in his crib and closes the door, leaning heavily against the wall as she pulls her phone from her back pocket. After a Google search, she pulls up a tabloid picture of Maria, holding the same child as she'd seen in the store.

Eliza opens Alex's office door, startling him and making him turn around in his desk chair. "Eliza? What is it?"

"Please," she says hoarsely, her voice wavering as she slowly holds up the phone so he can see the picture. "Please, tell me I'm wrong."

Her heart sinks to the floor as Alex's face pales, his breathing quickening as he looks at the picture. 

"I-" He stutters. "Betsey-"

Eliza has stopped listening. She sinks to the floor, the phone sliding out of her grip as she lets out a wail. Her whole body shakes with sobs, and she digs her fingers into her own shoulders, curling in on herself as she cries, cries harder than she'd ever cried. Her vision blurs with tears as she struggles to breathe, her chest rising and falling erratically.

Alex is watching with wide eyes, completely frozen. He has _never_ seen her like this, not once in the entire duration of their marriage. He has no idea what to do. 

He reaches out for her, to touch her arm, but she hits him away and screams, "Don't touch me!". There's a pair of footsteps on the stairs and suddenly Philip is standing in the doorway, watching his mother have an awful breakdown while his father watches, helpless. 

"What did you do?" Philip asks Alex, accusingly, fearfully. He kneels down beside Eliza, trying to hug her, trying to get her to stop crying so hard. 

"Mom, it's okay," he says under his breath, his voice nervous. He wraps his arms around her, holding on tighter when she hugs him back. "It's Pip, I'm here, Mama, I love you."

"Son," Alex murmurs, his hands shaking as he stares at the floor. "Philip-"

"Just fuck off!" Philip yells, looking up at Alex with disgust before turning his attention back to his mom. Alex chokes back a sob, but he gets up and leaves the room, leaving his son to try and fix what Alex has just shattered into billions and billions of pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. sorry about that


End file.
